Victoria Ricker: Diary of a Hopeless Young Adult
by Victoria Box
Summary: what she encountered today can't make any sense to anyone but herself
1. Chapter 1

Tonight isn't as cold as it was last night. I am almost too warm right now being out here alone. I am alone for two weeks, until October 5th, 2008, and it is both comforting and sad. If I was still living in Wisconsin with the rest of my friends, I truly would not be alone for these next weeks, but because I am now living in North Carolina with no one but myself and my cat, I am wondering what the fuck I am going to do with myself for the upcoming days. I know most people would be like, well just masturbate or something, but I mean, come on, how long and how often can you do that if your name isn't Janelle? There's a couple people I've met down here that I could potentially ask to come hang out, but because they are guys, they could get the wrong idea, considering I am 5'8", blond and skinny with huge boobs, I mean, I'd rather not open myself up to such an impression as sex. Don't get me wrong, god how I love sex, but really, thats just too much when you've known a guy for only three days, and three of those days you were drunk and hardly remember what the fucking kid looks like.

I've stopped drinking for the time being so I guess we could try it again with a fresh start, but do I really want to talk to some poof that has no idea what he's doing with his life and has only just graduated from high school? Yeah, that pretty much answers itself. Anyway, so I was thinking since I return to Wisconsin in about three weeks, I will do everything I can there, and get the terrible deprivation of sex off my chest and come back to NC with a fresh beginning. Oh god I really should stop even mentioning sex, because it just causes issues with me wanting it more and more. It's hard enough as it is not drinking alcohol, let alone not getting any. Anyway, back to being alone for the next two weeks. It's nice be able to be loud at night and it's also nice not sitting there as my roommate and her fiancé bicker at each other for about twenty minutes at a time. Talk about awkward... I really need to put up some kind of ad in the newspaper or on craigslist about me needing a new place to live, preferably with either only males or only females, no boyfriend and girlfriend in the midst. Anyway, now that I probably have malaria from the bloody mosquitoes out here, I am gonna go inside in hopes that someone will text me or I don't know, touch me. Hahahaha...


	2. Chapter 2

The desire of not being able to get the thing you want the most is unbelievable. It's so hard to listen to other people and function normally when you want ONE thing so much it takes over your mind completely. It's like it coats your brain with some kind of film that blocks the true light from coming in. I feel like dreams are the suppression of our deepest desires. Every time I think of something really hard before I fall asleep I can dream about it. It's really annoying when you desperately try to not think about something and it turns out to be the only thing you do think about. What the fuck is wrong with me? There are so many other things that can cause me to lose consciousness of the world around me, but this one thing, this one little, petty-like thing, makes me want to scream. It has taken over, I lost it for a little while, but now it's like okay, hi again! Maybe it's just because I've been alone the past two weeks and it seems like a comforting subject, either way, I really need it to get out of my head.

Okay so for a while when I knew that I could never get this, I accepted this proposition and seemed to force it out of my mind quite simply. Now... NOW I really just need the urge to attack it to go away. It's like, if I could pay for it, I would have bought it about a year and a half ago. I mean that is a terrible analogy but that's the most understandable way I can put it. Okay, well, lets say there's a really sweet piece of the most desirable candy sitting across the table from you, and you've touched it before, maybe had a little taste mutually, but you know that as it sits there, it wants someone else to eat it because although you're fun to let taste it, you aren't what it wants to eat it. Wow, I really need to think of better ways to describe this. This is extremely difficult.

GOD! Why can't I just make up my MIND? I don't get it, why is it I am so unsettled? Anyway, on another note...a more depressing note, my friend died a couple weeks ago, and I never cried from it. I never physically sat down and mourned his death. And it's not like we weren't close at all, I mean before I moved, he was one of my better friends. I don't see why or how I didn't cry. I don't think of death as anything terrible, but I mean, it's sad to think about not having someone there. This kid was awesome, I loved him, he was funny, kind, happy, just everything that meant good. There was this one time that we went and played manhunt in the woods near his house. He was black, so he always made it a point to hide in the shadows so we couldn't see him as easily. It was so fun, we would laugh and run around and play, and every moment I had with him was always a good one. For me to sit here and say I could not physically cry to mourn his death burdens me greatly. Yeah so we drifted after I moved away, but that doesn't mean I forgot the amazing times we had with each other. He'd come over with my other guy friends and we would just chill in my basement for hours and hours talking and playing video games and stuff. I have pictures of him with all of us. There was something about his death that triggered a feeling I had years and years ago. It was as if I knew he was going to die. It was eerie, but it was calming in a way. I couldn't say I knew exactly when he was going to die or that I had a premonition of some sort, but when I got the text informing me of his death the night before, it didn't make my heart sink, it didn't freak me out, it was as if something was released from my body. When I say I didn't mourn his death, I mean that in the sense I did not cry for him and his family. I mourned his death in the sense I still think about him, and I keep his soul alive by remembering. To me that is mourning someone's death. Call me a bad person if you must, I just feel as if I will see him again and even if I don't physically see him again, I will know his memory lives on. I go back to Wisconsin next week, and I think I will go to his grave and leave some kind of marking; for we will meet again soon.


End file.
